Germ Cell Tumor

i'm often misplacing the conviction that i sell

i put it on display so arrogantly

sometimes being right is important to me

i need the vindication

but it doesn't make me happy

it doesn't make me happy

it doesn't make me happy

i'm horrified by the prospect of defeat

so many demons want to make a home in me

and i want to burn their house down

i want to burn it to the ground

i want to burn it down, down, down, down

i think that when i started there was hope in the tank

somewhere along the lines i replaced all of it

running on the arrogant fumes of self-satisfaction

got me reeking of the odor of my own pestilence

it's easy to miss the forest for the trees

when every tree i see is me

and i want to cut them down

so petrified and i'm tangled in conceit

i've got to find a way to burn what's left of me

and when I'm finally all torn down

you're rising up out of the ground